


And The Angels Sing

by ThePathLessTrekked



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pianist and Bartender AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePathLessTrekked/pseuds/ThePathLessTrekked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard McCoy worked as a Bartender at the Riverside Lounge to earn his way through medical school. It's there that he meets the cocky, and admittedly talented, pianist Jim Kirk. </p>
<p>Thus started their short, but passionate, affair. </p>
<p>Through distance, time, and war, the men think of each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And The Angels Sing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mangochi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangochi/gifts).



> This is my USS Secret Santa fill for the lovely Mangochi. I adore your fics and I hope you enjoy this one! Merry Christmas!

**Thursday December 7, 1939 – San Francisco**

Thursdays had never been the most exciting nights at The Riverside Lounge. Most of the patrons were the usuals, catching one more drink after a day of meetings before going home to complacent wives. The Riverside was their one escape for the day before they returned to the grind of life.  For Leonard McCoy, however, the lounge was just another few hours on his already long day. With a small sigh he poured another vodka tonic for Mr. Everette, giving a spare nod of acknowledgement to the man taking one of the dozen empty seats at the bar. Tonight most of the twenty-four tables were empty and only four of the barstools were taken. Of those four only Mr. Everett and the newcomer seemed interested in ordering drinks, meaning a slow tip night. Len fought back a yawn and turned to the stranger, attempting to look more awake than he felt. 

“What can I get you?”

The stranger smiled widely and Len felt an inexplicable urge to sock the guy. He tried to shake it off and blamed it on stress. It was nearing ten o’clock and Len had been in classes all day and had two exams before noon tomorrow; his nerves were a little shot. The inquisitive look the stranger was giving him made Len realize he had missed the answer to his question. “I’m very sorry, what was that?”

The man laughed. “I asked for your name.” He leaned forward, giving Len a half-lidded gaze that could only be read as an invitation. 

Len balked at his indiscretion, but tried to hide it behind a snort.  “I just serve the drinks. You don’t need to know my name.” 

“And I just play the piano. I’d still like to hear your name.” 

“Play the piano?” Len raised an eyebrow as the other man nodded. “You’re the new guy? Thought you were only coming in on the weekends.” 

The pianist nodded again and gave a half shrug. “I thought I’d come and scope the place out. I’m Jim, by the way.” 

“McCoy. Leonard McCoy.” 

“Are the rest of the lounge’s employees as friendly as you are, Leonard McCoy?” 

Len snorted again and shook his head, picking up a glass to clean while he and Jim chatted. “Most pianists as forward as you, Jim?” 

“I like to think so.” Jim gave him a grin and tapped the counter with one slim finger. “An old fashioned, please.” He watched Len closely as the bartender set the glass down and started to mix the drink. “What are the crowds like on the weekend?”  

Len hummed thoughtfully as he pushed the drink over to Jim. “Pretty well-to-do group. Nothing too extravagant, but they come in dolled up and like to tip high. The last pianist we had in here usually walked out with a dollar or two each night. Closer to New Years I can walk out of here at the end of the weekend with eight.”

Jim gave a low whistle. “What does a bartender do with eight dollars at the _end_ of the weekend?”  

With a roll of his eyes Len picked the glass back up. “Put it in the bank account with the rest of the med-school fund. Becoming a surgeon doesn’t come cheap.” 

“A sawbones, huh?” 

“Working on it.” The conversation died off in the way that it does when two people have just met. Jim sipped at his drink while Len methodically cleaned glasses. After about ten minutes Mr. Everette cashed out his tab. A few minutes later the other two patrons decided to take their leave as well, leaving only Jim and Len at the bar. 

“So,” Jim was lazily tracing patterns on the top of the bar, only half watching Len as he spoke. “Don’t suppose you have anything to do once you’re off shift, do you?”

Len eyed him warily. “I’m going home to get as much sleep as I can before I have to stumble into a classroom for an exam.” 

Jim didn’t even have the decency to look put off by the rejection. He just nodded in understanding and tossed a bill on the bartop. “I guess I’ll just have to wait ‘til the weekend to see you. Good to meet you, Bones.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Len said with a scowl. The other man only winked and sauntered away, leaving Len annoyed and begrudgingly intrigued. 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

Friday was hopping. But while the Riverside was a jostle of energy and vibrant bodies, Len was running on fumes and even with the promise of a night of fantastic tips he found himself aching to go home. And to top it off he had only been there two hours. He had another six to go. Taking a deep breath he turned with a smile to his next customer and mixed up their martini with as little fuss as he could. 

He continued to make drinks for the tables as the owner took the small stage at the back of the room. “Ladies and Gentlemen!”  Benny’s round, friendly face grinned out at the crowd as it fell quiet. “I’d like to introduce you to our new pianist. Mr. James Kirk!” He clapped along with the crowd as Jim walked onto the stage with a small wave and a polite smile.

Jim looked good in a tux. The sleek black fabric pulled focus to his golden hair and made his shockingly blue eyes clear even from where Len stood at the bar. Len found his mouth going a little dry at the sight. Jim, however, looked as calm and cocky as he had the day before. 

The grand piano stood proudly behind him, a dark warm wood that fit the cozy atmosphere of The Riverside and matched the bar counter and tables. Len had always admired the instrument, humoring thoughts of putting his hands on the keys and some how using their precise movements to draw something beautiful from it. But, when Jim sat and started on the gentle tones of _Moonlight Serenade_ , Len knew that his hands would never be able to make music like that. 

As many times as he had heard the song, there was something enchanting about Jim playing it. It was the perfect song for a lounge. Popular, catchy, but gentle enough that it didn’t impede chatting or ordering a drink. Yet, all eyes were on Jim as he played. A few women towards the front put their chins in their hands and leaned forward and Len found himself just as enraptured as the sight of the man playing.

A man at his elbow cleared his throat and Len came back to himself, apologizing and taking the order, stealing glances towards the stage when ever he could.

When the night finally wound down and all Len had to do was clean up before he could go home to his inviting bed, Jim slid up to the bar with a smirk. 

“So how did you like the show, Bones?” Jim’s eyes were dancing with confidence that grated on Len’s nerves while making his stomach flip at the same time. 

“Wasn’t much of a show,” he deadpanned, avoiding Jim’s gaze as he wiped down the counter. “Seemed like some pretty clumsy playing.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jim place a hand to his chest a playfully wounded expression on his face. 

“Oh, Bones.” Jim gave a dramatic sigh. “And here I was hoping you’d be able to appreciate a man with skilled hands.” Len stopped dead and looked up at Jim with wide eyes. The pianist was grinning back at him, eyes crinkled at the edges in a way only mischief-makers seemed able to do.

Len scowled and turned back to his task with a renewed focus. “I’m studying to become a surgeon; I can recognize skilled hands. What you did to that piano was nothing short of a toddler banging on the keys.” Jim snorted before breaking out into a deep laugh that made Len’s heart jump. He fought back a smile and threw down the towel before leaning against the counter. “You like throwing people off don’t you? You like being a cad.” 

“I am many things, Bones, my friend.” Jim winked at him and hopped off the bar stool. 

The bartender raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue, but Jim just waved and left Len to finish his clean up. With a chuckle Len picked the rag back up. 

“Len.” Benny leaned on the counter to catch his attention. The owner’s eyebrows were climbing up his forehead at an alarming rate. “Watch yourself around Kirk, all right?”

“Why, Benny? He seems nice enough.” Len had to admit that Jim was a little bit overwhelming, but that seemed to be as much a part of his charm as the playful smile.

Benny just gave him a small frown and shook his head. “From what I’ve heard he plays the piano like a dream, but he’s a trouble-maker and a deviant. I don’t want to see you get caught up with that kind of crowd after all the work you’ve put in to get through school.”

Len bit the inside of his cheek, but nodded. Benny’s heart was in the right place, but Len wasn’t quite so sure Jim was as transparent as he seemed. As for being a deviant, well... “Don’t worry Ben. I know how to take care of myself. I won’t let anything get between me and being Doctor Leonard McCoy MD.” 

With a firm nod Benny tapped the counter. “Glad to hear it.” He wandered off towards his office, leaving Len alone at the bar for the first time that night. 

On the bus home, he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what kind of trouble Jim Kirk could get him into. To his surprise, he wasn’t as adverse to the ideas that came to mind as he should have been.

**Friday December 22, 1939**

“So you have plans for Christmas, Bones?” Jim had taken up what Len was quickly starting to think of as “Jim’s spot” at the bar. His eyes were are bright as ever and Len had to put more effort into seeming disinterested than he had when they first met. Despite Benny’s warning, Len found himself being drawn to Jim and the last couple of weeks hadn’t dulled his intrigue one bit. It didn’t hurt that Jim chatting with him at the bar before they opened had become an almost nightly event, even when Jim wasn’t there to play.

“I’m taking the train back to Georgia tomorrow to see my ma.” He set down the old fashioned that Jim usually drank before he performed and leaned on the counter. “What about you?” 

Jim shrugged and twirled the glass on the bar lazily. “I was thinking of heading back to see my mom and brother, but the rest of the family is going to be there and I’m not sure if I want to deal with them.” 

“Even on christmas?” 

Jim smiled ruefully. “Especially on christmas. It usually turns into an endless stream of ‘why haven’t you settled down with a nice girl yet, James?’ and like hell I’m going to sit through Aunt Margie’s knowing looks and heartfelt promise that she’ll pray for me before she leaves.” 

Jim’s tone was laid back and teasing, but his hands moved restlessly. Len couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to family gatherings than concerns about his lifestyle. It was obviously a tense subject. 

“So,” Len let the word draw out like he was unsure how to broach the topic. “Why _haven’t_ you settled down with a nice girl yet, James.”

Jim’s eyes widened, mouth gaping in a rare moment of speechlessness as he tried to come up with the words to explain what he thought he had made pretty obvious. Len managed to keep a straight face for about three seconds before bursting into laughter. The pianist’s eyes narrowed accusingly as Len struggled to regain his composure. 

“Oh god. The look on your face.” He gasped for air desperately before falling back into a fit of giggles. Jim rolled his eyes, but Len could see the smile fighting at the corners of his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he said, rather insincerely, “but I couldn’t resist.”

“Mostly I think I’m just relieved to see you have a sense of humor.” Jim winked at him as he stood to go prepare for that nights performance. “Even if it is at my expense.”

“What can I say? You’re fun to tease.” Len grinned at Jim’s exasperated sigh.

“And here I thought you would be this sweet doctor hiding a heart of gold under practical cynicism. That’s what I get for trusting my gut. This isn’t how I imagined things going, Bones.”

Len raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “And what exactly were you expecting?”

Jim opened his mouth to reply, but Benny called him up to the stage before he managed. With a smirk Jim bounced over to the stage, leaving Len to finish up his prep for the night. He didn’t think too much about what Jim had been planning to say until the piano started up and Jim’s smooth voice floated through the room over the muted din of conversation.

“ _We meet and the angels sing…”_

His eyes shot over to the stage where Jim sat proudly at the piano. Jim was looking right at him, an easy smile graced his lips, fondness dancing in his eyes. Len felt heat rise to his cheeks as he looked away. 

He grinned the rest of the night.

 

**Sunday December 31, 1939**

Jim and Len tried to stifle their laughs as they stumbled up the stairs of Len’s building. The champagne had been flowing freely at the Riverside’s New Year’s Eve party and both of them had enjoyed being the ones being served for once. The result was them trying to discreetly get into Len’s apartment and failing. Jim had his hands on Len’s hips and Len was trying to focus past the heat bleeding through the thin fabric of his shirt so that he could get the door open. Jim was trying to focus on remembering all the words to Auld Lang Syne and keeping his balance. 

“You’re making this awfully difficult, Darlin’.” Len finally managed to swing the door open and they both nearly toppled into the apartment. Jim just snickered and kicked the door shut before being ushered to the couch where he almost fell into Len’s lap as they finally collapsed. Len chuckled and let his head drop onto Jim’s shoulder, turning his face into the curve of Jim’s neck. “Got the hang of that song yet?”  

With a hum Jim tried again, but his tongue tripped over the words and he laughed helplessly. “Apparently not. I should stick to the ones I know.” Jim rested his cheek on Len’s head and took a deep breath. They fell quiet for a few moments, the only sounds were Len’s clock ticking from the bookshelf and a few laughs and yells from parties taking place outside the apartment. “Like the one I sang a couple of weeks ago.” 

Len lifted his head to fix Jim with a confused stare, apparently having lost the conversation after a few minute’s lull. 

“You know,” Jim stood and grabbed Len’s hands, pulling him to his feet. “ _We meet and the angels sing._ ” He wrapped an arm around Len’s waist and grasped his hand, carefully leading him in a slightly off-balance dance. “ _The angels sing the sweetest song I ever heard._ ” He pressed his cheek to Len’s softly as he danced them around the room, half humming and half singing the song as they went. Eventually the dance dissolved into a slow swaying as Jim’s voice crooned on, leaving Len feeling light and slow all at once, as if he were dancing underwater and above the clouds at the same time. Vaguely, he was aware of the clock starting to chime twelve. “ _We kiss and the angels sing…_ ” 

Just as the clock finished announcing the new year, Jim turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to the side of Len’s mouth. “Happy New Years, Bones.”

Len turned and met his lips. The kiss was slow and burned through Len’s body like whiskey straight from the bottle. It slowly brought the the world to a stop with the exception of Jim’s hands running through his hair, down his neck, over his chest. They pulled apart reluctantly, gasping for air and clinging to each other’s arms.

Len pressed his forehead to Jim’s and took a few deep breaths. “Stay the night.” 

Jim nodded slowly and pressed another lingering kiss to Len’s lips. He pulled away and reached up to touch Len’s lips, letting his thumb rest at the corner of his mouth. Len turned and kissed the inside of his palm softly. They stayed quiet as Len hooked Jim by a belt loop and tugged him towards the bed. In the few steps it took to cross the small studio apartment both men had lost everything but their trousers, though Jim was making quick work of Len’s. The gentleness that they had started with was giving way to an urgency that left shocking trails of heat on Len’s skin wherever Jim touched him. The fingers skimming over his hips as they pushed away the fabric of his pants made his stomach drop and Jim chuckled at Len’s sharp intake of breath. 

“Been awhile, Bones?” Jim’s voice was rough as he kissed up the column of Len’s neck. “It’s been months for me and you throwing me those little smiles at the lounge wasn’t making it any easier.” Jim slipped his hand inside Len’s trousers, gently running his knuckles up the length of Len’s cock, letting the fabric of his underwear slide and catch. 

Len’s breath caught again as a shiver ran down his spine. “ _I_ haven’t been making it any easier? I’m not the one dropping lewd hints in front of customers.” He nipped playfully at Jim’s ear and managed to grab both of his wrists. “If anyone’s been a tease, kid, it’s you.” Jim looked up to argue, but Len pushed forward, tightening his grip on Jim’s wrist as he backed him to the edge of the bed. “But I’m in charge now.” With one quick shove Jim was sprawled out on the bed, a half disbelieving smile on his lips. 

“You think so?” 

Len smirked and straddled his waist, locking his fingers around Jim’s wrists again and pinning him to the bed. He leaned down and pulled Jim into a forceful kiss, biting and licking at his lips until Jim was breathless. Len kissed down Jim’s jaw and rolled his hips slowly, drawing out a desperate whimper from the man beneath him. “I know so.” 

He let go of Jim’s wrists to strip them both down. There was a moment where he paused to admire the sight of Jim on his bed before he slid his hands up Jim’s legs, over his hips,across his stomach, careful to avoid Jim’s flushed and leaking cock. Jim made to flip them over, but Len pinned him back down quickly, placing slow open mouthed kisses across his chest, digging his fingers into Jim’s shoulders and knees pressed tight against Jim’s thighs. “No. You stay there.”  

Jim pursed his lips but didn’t move as Len reached over to the bedside table, digging through the drawer until there was as small clink of a glass jar being opened.

“Finally,” Jim breathed, shifting to move his legs further apart, but Len shook his head as he leaned forward to balance with one hand next to Jim’s head, spreading his knees and pressing his mouth to Jim’s shoulder. Len was fingering himself open, moans muffled against Jim’s skin. Jim watched Len’s face, lips parted and eyes wide. He slid his hand over Len’s ass so he could feel what he couldn’t see. “Fuck, Bones.”  He traced his fingers around Len’s stretched hole, moaning when he felt Len’s fingers brush past his again and again.

“Mmm,” Len placed a lazy kiss against the side of Jim’s mouth. “Here.” He pulled his hand away and reached down to hold Jim’s dick as he lowered himself onto it. Jim let out a low growl and dug his fingers into the back of Len’s thighs roughly. Len tsked and grabbed Jim’s wrists again, shoving them above his head and holding them there. “I told you. I’m calling the shots.” Len smirked at the wrecked look on Jim’s face as he sunk down further onto his throbbing cock at an achingly slow pace. 

“Oh, God,” Jim groaned when Len sat flush against his hips. They were both panting, Len’s mouth slack and eyes fluttering. Jim flexing his hands and fighting not to grind up into the tight heat above him. The moments that Len kept them still seemed to stretch out forever, but when Len finally moved, Jim’s world flew apart. He gasped and writhed, struggling against the iron grip Len had on his wrists, desperate to put his hands on the other man. Len growled and bit down hard on the thick muscle of Jim’s neck, rolling his hips and moaning with each brush of Jim’s cock against his prostate. 

“No.” Len sucked at the already darkening mark he’d left on Jim’s neck. “You don’t get to move until I come.” He rolled his hips again and chuckled at Jim’s desperate whine. “Poor thing.” 

In a whirl of motion Len found himself on his back, Jim above him and pinning his wrists in a mirror image of their previous position. 

“You fucking tease.” Before Len could protest Jim thrust back into him hard. Len arched, eyes rolling back as Jim fucked deeper into him, face buried against Len’s neck, gasping into his ear. He let go of Len’s wrists and wrapped an arm around his waist. He hissed when Len scrambled for purchase on Jim’s back, nails leaving angry red marks that sent sparks dancing down his spine. “Come on, Bones. Do it. Come.” 

With a strangled cry Len came, cock untouched. Jim came moments after, gasping against Len’s neck as his orgasm ripped through him. They collapsed into each other, breathless, shaking from exertion, and completely, utterly, content. 

**Monday January 1, 1940**

Len ached. His back was sore, his thighs burned, and that was just the least of it. It was _wonderful_. Weak sunlight was coming through the window, diffused by the overcast weather. It had to be cold outside, and Len had forgotten to put the heat on the night before, but the bed was deliciously warm. A strong arm tightened around Len’s waist and he could feel the soft huff of breath against the nape of his neck. Jim had stayed the night. Len smiled sleepily and allowed himself to sink back into the other man’s hold. 

“Good mornin’.” 

“Mornin’, Bones.” Jim’s lips brushed against his neck and he let out a content sigh. “Want to stay in bed all day and do jack shit?” 

Len chucked. “Sounds great, but we have work tonight. One of the busiest days of the year.” 

Jim let out a groan and tried to burrow his face into Len’s back, making Len squirm. “Can’t we just tell Benny we’re too fucked out to come in?”

“I can see it now. ‘Sorry, Benny. We’re too busy being raging homosexuals to come in to work tonight.’” They both broke out in a fit of laughter. 

Eventually the men dragged themselves out of bed so that Jim could get home on time to get ready for work. He left with a quick kiss and a smile that was full of promises.  

**Wednesday January 24, 1940**

Len thought it was curious how much could change without really changing at all. He still worked most nights and went to class most days. He was still exhausted and still worried about being able to afford school. Jim still played weekends and flirted with anyone who came within a five foot radius. And yet, they hardly spent a night away from each other. Suddenly there was this presence in Len’s life that left him laughing and feeling more relaxed than he could ever remember. Jim Kirk was filling Len’s life up with sunshine and music and he couldn’t get enough. 

Which was probably why this felt like someone was digging his heart out of his chest even though they had only been sleeping together for a month. Less than a month really. 

“So, you’re leaving.” It was only half an hour till open and Len still had to write out the night’s specials on the chalkboard. He was holding the chalk, but the board was still blank. Jim was avoiding his eyes. 

“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” He had his hands buried in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. It made him look uncharacteristically small. “I mean… Juilliard, Bones!” Jim finally looked at him. His eyes a strange cross between hopeful and nervous. “I never dreamed of actually getting in.” 

Len nodded and leaned against the counter heavily. “That’s amazing, Jim” He hated how small his voice sounded. He should have been jumping for joy for the kid. He had only known Jim for six weeks, this wasn’t losing a life-long friend. “When are you leaving?” 

Jim shuffled nervously, his eyes jumping around the room again, refusing to settle on Len. “Two days.” 

Len dropped chalk. It felt like his heart was trying to sink through his stomach. “Two days? That fast?”

Jim nodded and sighed. He ran a hand over his face roughly and took a deep breath before looking at Len again. “That fast.” 

It was clear he hadn’t meant his departure time. He was talking about them. Six weeks. Two days to become friends, two weeks to become lovers, and four weeks to have the time of their lives. It was over _that fast._  

They watched each other for a moment, neither one willing to look away. They knew that would be the end of it. Here and now. They wouldn’t have a chance for one more night and this certainly wasn’t the place for a goodbye, not if they wanted to keep their hides intact. 

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Jim said meekly. 

Len took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes at Jim. “You blow them out of the fucking water, you hear me? If I don’t hear about the world-famous Jim Kirk who is worth the _piano’s_ weight in gold I am going to be pissed.” 

Jim gave a small smile and stuck his hand out to shake. “You got it, Doctor.” 

Len nodded firmly and returned the smile, grasping Jim’s hand tightly. If their hands lingered a little too long, no one seemed to notice. 

**Saturday October 3, 1942 – Tunisia, North African Campaign**

Leonard watched as the plane took off with seven of his most critically injured patients onboard. While he knew they were in the extremely capable and fearless hands of Nurse Christine Chapel, it didn’t ease his fears for their safety. There was no safety out here.

Dragging a dirty hand over his face, Len sighed and decided to take the rare quiet moment he had to rest behind one of the smaller medical tents on the edge of the encampment. He watched the nurses and corpsmen scurry from one stop to the next with a strange sort of detachment. He couldn’t block out the drone of plane engines or the screams of soldiers as they dreamed of the front lines, but he could sit and try to gather strength. 

A stretcher passed by and sight of blond hair smattered with blood sent a cold chill through Len’s blood before he managed to reign it in. A stranger, nothing more. Since he had started here he dreaded catching sight of Jim. Every pair of blue eyes or head of blond hair lead to a moment of terror, but in the end it was never Jim and Len managed to continue on. 

This wasn’t the world he imagined they’d be living in when he told Jim to become famous. Len hadn’t given even a passing thought to Jim being drafted or having to fight for his life. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to push the unwanted thoughts of Jim away. It had been nearly three years and it was still a struggle to keep his mind from wandering back to that bright grin and those dancing hands. Even now, in the middle of the terror, fatigue, and constant edge of risk, Len thought of Jim. 

A man he knew for six weeks three years ago.

Taking one more breath to fortify himself, Len stood and started back to his station. It was time he came to accept two truths. The first being, that if he made it out of this alive, he would step off the plane onto U.S. soil and never get on another one. The second was that he had no way of knowing if Jim was even alive and living on the hope of seeing him again was foolish. 

Yet, no matter how foolish, he didn’t stop him from wondering just what had happened to James Kirk.

**Saturday December 7, 1940 – Paris, France**

Jim had been thankful for the opportunity to play the concert series in Paris, especially considering that he was only in his first year at Juilliard. He had been amazed by the grandeur of the city and richness of emotion his playing pulled from the audience. He loved being on stage in the concert hall and pouring himself into the music. But he would have traded all of it to be back in New York the moment two armed soldiers escorted him out of his hotel suite while a man with an Iron Cross explained how excited his fellow officers were to hear him play for them.

When it became clear that Jim would continue to play for them for as long as they pleased, he wished he had given up Juilliard altogether and stayed in Len’s arms.

 

**Tuesday April 15, 1941 – Paris, France**

It wasn’t that they mistreated Jim. In fact, he lived a comfortable life. Food whenever he wanted it, free access to books, the piano, and whatever other comforts the hotel he was being held at offered. 

But when it came down to it, he was still a prisoner, chained by a power that he despised. As far as Jim was concerned he was no better than a trained monkey with a street organ. 

He scowled at the guard as he pushed Jim into the back seat of the car that would drive him back to the hotel for the night. The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror and asked his comrade something  in German. The guard nodded and said something Jim _did_ understand. 

“George Kirk Sohn.” 

The driver nodded in understanding and waved goodbye before pulling away.

Of course. Of course they recognized his name and figured that they could do with the son of the famous violinist. George had died in The Great War and his ghost had been following Jim ever since. Jim sighed and leaned back in his seat, suddenly more tired than he had been in all four months he’d been in Paris. As they tended to do over the last year, his thoughts drifted to Len.

Len hadn’t cared that Jim was George Kirk’s son. He’d simply seemed surprised and then continued to ask more about _Jim_ , not about his father. 

Len. Bones. God how he missed him. Over a year and he still thought of the man nearly everyday. He missed the witty barbs and soft laughter and longed to wake up to a body warmed bed with Bones’ fingers laced through his. 

He was so lost in memories about Len that he nearly screamed when a heavy Scottish brogue interrupted his thoughts. 

“Hope you don’t mind, lad. But I owe one Captain Pike a favor and he’s spending it on getting you home.” The driver shot Jim a crooked grin and turned down a street that led them in the opposite direction from the hotel.

 

**Tuesday May 8, 1945 V E Day – San Francisco/New York City**

On opposite sides of the country, Jim and Len leaned in to better hear the announcement on the radio. The war in Europe was over. People shouted and cried in relief. Their men were coming home. 

Len’s heart ached to know if Jim would be among them, to know the fate of the blue eyed man that still drifted through his thoughts. 

Silent tears rolled down Jim’s face as he wondered the same thing about Len.

 

**Saturday December 31, 1949 – San Francisco**

Len pulled at the collar of his tuxedo shirt, grumbling under his breath as Nyota slapped his hands away.

“You’re going to wrinkle it,” she chided as she straightened out his bow tie. He just glowered.

“I still don’t know how you managed to talk me into this.” 

Nyota just grinned and batted her eyelashes at him. “You adore me and wouldn’t let a lovely lady, such as myself, attend a concert all on her lonesome.” 

“Spock is faking sick to just to spite me, isn’t he?” Len sighed dramatically and held out his arm for Nyota as they walked towards their seats in the concert hall. He held her coat as she took her seat, not failing to notice how she rolled her eyes at his accusation.

“I’ve been looking forward to this performance for months, and it’s not often you’ll find someone as well known as James Kirk playing to a mixed crowd. There was no way I was letting a ticket go to waste and you’re the only one I know who likes piano as much as I do.” 

Len flopped into the seat next to her with a sigh. “I do love piano, it’s the tux I ha–” Nyota’s explanation sunk in slowly. Much too slowly. Suddenly Len’s head was spinning. “James Kirk?”

Nyota grinned at him and nodded. “I wasn’t sure you’d know the name! You’re familiar with his work? Most people think of his father, but George Kirk was all violin.” 

Len tried to get his tongue to form words, but his mouth was far too dry and before he could manage the lights dimmed and the curtain rose.

Sure enough, there was Jim center stage just as he had been at The Riverside a decade ago. His hair just as blond, his eyes just as blue, and his hands even more elegant on the keys than before. Len watched, stunned, as the concert went on. 

Fate. It had to be. His mind whirled at the idea that, after all these years of not knowing, all the time that passed between them, Jim was here. 

By the time the concert came to a close, Len was nearly frantic with nerves. Nyota had mentioned a reception and he was willing to bet his medical license that Jim would be there to flirt with his adoring fans. He walked out of the concert hall stiffly, still unsure of what he would do. 

Then he saw the bar. 

Making a quick sign to Nyota about where he was going, he made a beeline to the bar and pulled the bartender aside. “Beat it, kid.”

The bartender gave him a startled look and started to protest, but Len waved him quiet, pulled a five dollar bill out of his wallet and shoved it into the young man’s hand. “Ten minutes,  just give me ten minutes and then you can make drinks for these people until they pass out.” The bartender stared at the bill for a few seconds before hightailing it away from the bar, much to Len’s relief. He quickly took the kid’s place behind the bar, making drinks for a minute or two before a well dressed blond man came up to place his order. 

“I’d like an old fashioned, if you don’t–” Len could see the moment Jim recognized him and it made his heart beat hard in his throat. 

“Old fashioned on the rocks?”

Jim’s eyes were wide and unbelieving as Len poured his drink and handed it to him.

“Give me ten minutes and meet me in front of the building?” 

Jim nodded mutely and swallowed hard before turning on his heel and wading back into the crowd. Len finished up the last drink he was making and rushed to push a few dollars cabfare into Nyota’s hand with a promise that he would make this up to her later, leaving her with half explanations as to what was happening before he gathered up his courage and went outside. 

He found himself facing Jim and realized he had no idea what to say. Luckily Jim was never at a loss for words for long.

“Bones, please tell me you aren’t actually still a bartender.” 

Len tried to stop himself, really he did, but soon he was doubled over laughing, clinging to Jim’s shoulder for balance while Jim held onto his forearm to keep himself upright as he laughed along. It was a few minutes before they managed to calm themselves down long enough to talk.

“Nah, I’m a doctor. I might have bribed the actual bartender to disappear for a few minutes so I could get your attention.”

Jim snorted and slid his hand to the back of Len’s neck fondly. “It’s so good to see you, Bones.”  

Len smiled softly. Silence fell between them and Len cleared his throat. “My place is just a few blocks away...if you want to catch up.”

Len knew he had missed Jim’s grin, but he hadn’t realized how much he _needed_ it until Jim focused the full force of it on him. “What are we waiting for?”

**Sunday January 1, 1950**

Len hummed softly as Jim traced lazy patterns into his skin. The hazy morning light was filtering through the window of Len’s bedroom, making the room feel small and warm. 

“So,” Jim said, watching his own fingers as he trailed them over Len’s chest. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

Len nodded absently, letting his hand stroke up and down Jim’s back. “We never made plans to keep in touch. It’s not like we had a lot to go on. Then with the war...I figured you were marching through the mud somewhere.”

“I was in Paris. Some of the SS was keeping me in the city to play for them before a Scottish madman broke me out as a favor to my Uncle Chris.” 

Len stopped the lazy movements of his hands and stared down at Jim in disbelief. “Well that seems like quite the story.” 

Jim smirked and shook his head. “It was boring as hell honestly. Four months of playing for the enemy and living in a five star hotel. Not exactly a difficult imprisonment. The most exciting bit was Scotty kidnapping me. Had to hide the the trunk of the car at one point. Once I got back I started up a Juilliard again and got my degree. Almost like nothing happened.” He rested his cheek against Len’s chest and peered up at him. “What about you?”

Len cleared his throat awkwardly. “The army was offering fast track medical degrees. They needed doctors and needed them fast, so I joined up. Ended up being stationed in Tunisia.” Jim let out a hiss of surprise, but didn’t say anything. “Nothing on God’s green earth will get me back on a plane, but I got out relatively unscathed.” 

They fell silent for a few minutes. Jim picked up his lazy trail across Len’s chest again and Len watched his fingers with content. There was a lot they would have to talk about eventually, and even now it hung above them in an almost tangible way. Yet, Len wasn’t sure if they would get the opportunity. Jim lived in New York, Len lived in San Fran, they hadn’t seen each other in ten years, and –as much as it felt like fate to Len– there was no reason this would turn into anything other than a night of remembered passions. Thought he knew it would probably hurt like a hammer to the chest to ask, Len couldn’t stop himself. 

“When are you heading back to New York?”

“I was offered a place here, to start teaching at the university. I wasn’t sure if I should take it though, I didn’t have a whole lot of reason to stay…” Jim looked up at him hesitantly and Len couldn't’ help but notice the choice of words. Jim said he _didn’t_ have a reason, not that he _doesn’t_ have one now.

He pushed his fingers through Jim’s hair softly. “If you don’t think that us seeing each other again after ten years is a sign, then I’m not going to try and convince you. But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let you walk out of my life again, Jim.” 

Jim set his chin on Len’s chest, looking up at him with a lazy grin. “Well when you put it like that, San Francisco sounds pretty damn good. Don’t you think, Bones?” 

Len pulled him up for a kiss. 

And, as they always had before, they heard the angels sing.

 


End file.
